Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Thanks Dad!
When I was 14 years old, my dad had a coughing fit. During this fit, both retinas in both eyes detached and he went from 20/20 vision to being blind. Just like that.
We learned later that he had suffered a degenerative retinal syndrome which weakens the retinal attachments - but it had no warning symptoms and he never knew he had it. If he were alive today, it would have been picked up and he would never have gone blind.
It had an enormous impact on our family, obviously. He went from a great managerial job - which he loved, to screwing nuts on bolts in a factory, by touch, seated in his cold, dark world, 8 hours a day, year after year. Bolt after bolt.
One day I went into his little factory space and he was in complete darkness. He didn't know, but in the faintest light I quietly watched him for a minute or two. I just burst into tears it was so fucking sad. He hugged me and said I had everything going for me, and that now was the time to "go get the world." Until then, I had been a bit of a misfit, not doing much at all.
He would have given anything - both legs and one arm I reckon, to be able to get back into a decent career. But he couldn't.
That whole episode and quandary really made me change my view on a lot of things, in particular people who have talent, but for some weird reason, don't seem to want to apply that talent. A wonderful world is waiting for them, but they just do not want to jump into it. Until then, I had been one of them.
That 'moment' gave me a much-needed kick in the ass and at 18 I started working really really hard often pulling double shifts as an Oz Radio DJ, and working weekends whenever I could. 10 years later I owned a house.
I often think that - maybe?- if it hadn't been for my Dad, I might be stuck in a factory today, doing something like screwing nuts onto bolts.
Now its your turn - you younger ones. Go get the world!
We learned later that he had suffered a degenerative retinal syndrome which weakens the retinal attachments - but it had no warning symptoms and he never knew he had it. If he were alive today, it would have been picked up and he would never have gone blind.
It had an enormous impact on our family, obviously. He went from a great managerial job - which he loved, to screwing nuts on bolts in a factory, by touch, seated in his cold, dark world, 8 hours a day, year after year. Bolt after bolt.
One day I went into his little factory space and he was in complete darkness. He didn't know, but in the faintest light I quietly watched him for a minute or two. I just burst into tears it was so fucking sad. He hugged me and said I had everything going for me, and that now was the time to "go get the world." Until then, I had been a bit of a misfit, not doing much at all.
He would have given anything - both legs and one arm I reckon, to be able to get back into a decent career. But he couldn't.
That whole episode and quandary really made me change my view on a lot of things, in particular people who have talent, but for some weird reason, don't seem to want to apply that talent. A wonderful world is waiting for them, but they just do not want to jump into it. Until then, I had been one of them.
That 'moment' gave me a much-needed kick in the ass and at 18 I started working really really hard often pulling double shifts as an Oz Radio DJ, and working weekends whenever I could. 10 years later I owned a house.
I often think that - maybe?- if it hadn't been for my Dad, I might be stuck in a factory today, doing something like screwing nuts onto bolts.
Now its your turn - you younger ones. Go get the world!
